


Faith in You

by Sounddrive



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Slice of Life, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 12:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8248216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sounddrive/pseuds/Sounddrive
Summary: In other words, Knock Out is confused by a human’s trust in him.Gift fic for milagrosen on tumblr.Original post date: August 7th, 2016.





	

Knock Out knew that when he began courting the scout, there’d be a bunch of hoops he’d have to jump though.

Optimus Prime? Check. Ratchet? The grizzly medic didn’t trust him as far as he could throw him, as far as he could tell. The sentiment remained the same throughout the Autobot ranks here . . .

Smokescreen was oddly neutral, but entirely too ecstatic that there was another mech that shared the same flashy tastes, despite the fact that Knock Out almost killed him for leaving him stuck in that wall.

The crimson medic crossed the line at sharing his secrets on how to keep his shiny finish. That was a trade secret.

What he wasn’t expecting was for the youngest human among the Hangar E occupants to take to him so easily.

Knock Out understood why Arcee’s charge kept a cautious distance from him; nearly drilling a hole into his fleshy body wasn’t going to score points with anyone. Knock Out understood why the big green Wrecker’s charge blasted questions at him at the speed of light; this one was entirely too curious for her own good.

What made him beyond puzzled was why Bumblebee’s charge, the absolute youngest being on this technologically primitive base, the one that survived a blast of energon right to his little body (Bumblebee hadn’t talked about it with anyone, as far as Knock Out knew), was the one that was being sincere in wanting to know the Aston Martin better.

The only thing that the mech could truly pinpoint it on was that Bee had agreed to be a part of the courtship with him. But, as far as any sound reasoning went, there had to be more.

No thing alive, Optimus Prime the one exception (much to Ultra Magnus’s and Ratchet’s chagrin), would trust someone, a former enemy no less, to have genuine feelings for who was basically the son of the leader of the other faction. It just didn’t make sense!

“Why do you trust me?"  Ratchet was off to the corner, watching the ex-Decepticon medic approach Rafael. His servos squeezed the tool he held, but for now, he observed.

"What do you mean?” The child sat on the top of a Cybertronian-sized workable. With his legs crossed, he tapped away on the keyboard of his laptop. Whatever was on the human’s screen, it reflected upon his spectacles.

Knock Out leaned against the wall beside the workable, wheels rubbing against the cold concrete. Crossing his arms, one leg resting its ankle over the opposite foot, he looked over at Rafael with mild frustration.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“ . . . Should I be worried about why?”

His crimson optics narrowed at the nonchalant, bespectacled eyes the young meat bag had.

“Unless you want your guardian and the Autobots’ Chief Medic to weld my aft onto a lab table about slightly threatening you to tell me the answer,” Knock Out waved a servo about, face wrinkled in disgust, “not really. but I’d like an explanation!”

Raf closed his laptop, gently setting it beside him. He wiggled himself into a more comfortable position.

A long, suffering sigh left Knock Out’s vents. He was about to complain about how slow he was about it, but the child surprised him with, “It’s because Bee trusts you.”

Knock Out and Ratchet shared the same expression.

_. . . What?_

That was it? That was  _it?!_

“You could have tried to kill me before, but you haven’t since you came here,” Rafael pointed out.  "In fact, that applies to everyone else here, but you didn’t.“

Ratchet scoffed, immediately turning back to his work. Knock Out wouldn’t try anything-that was a _fact._

"I don’t know about you, but I trust Bee’s judgement,” Raf looked up at the crimson mech.

“Do you, now?” Metal lips slightly curved upwards, crimson optics shining.

“Do you even have to ask?” Rafael replied in kind, an eyebrow arched.

It was undeniable, though arguably it helped with those blue saucers of optics the scout had.  Bee just had that way to anyone that would listen.


End file.
